Inspiration soothes bad case of windburn

Even when I was pregnant with my first child, I would go jogging around Stockton's Victory Park.

My husband would run with me. Actually, not so much with me as way ahead of me, calling back: "Hurry up, sweetie."

At least, that's what I heard. One day he 'fessed up that he was actually saying, "Hurry up, speedy."

Funny, very funny.

He still says it. And I still hear "sweetie."

Last Sunday, the fact that I'm not even remotely speedy was clearly was evident when the Fleet Feet Shamrock'n Half Marathon training group I'm part of met up for our group's long run.

I'll be honest. I had been dreading this day. If ever I was going to be a quitter, this was the time.

The whistling sound of wind and the thrashing tree branches outside the Kirby house had kept me from sleeping, and by the time dawn broke on the stormy Sunday, I was in a foul mood.

I thought my group was supposed to run nine miles, and I breathed a sigh of relief when our coaches announced we were running for 85 minutes. I don't know why, but somehow this seemed more doable.

For the first time, I decided to carry a water bottle and try out some electrolyte gummy chews since the thought of sucking down a gel goo is still grossing me out.

As I made my way past the sailboats docked at the Stockton Sailing Club, the masts and riggings sounded like ghostly chimes.

Soon enough, Tony Vice of Fleet Feet came whizzing by me. He wasn't the first runner to pass me, and he wouldn't be the last.

"You're all hunched over," he said. "You look tense."

No kidding. Trying to run in the crazy wind that was blowing at me from all directions was ticking me off. I felt like I was running in place. I tried the electrolyte gummies, which promptly became lodged in my molars. I fiddled with my water bottle. Nothing was right.

After 45 minutes of trying to propel myself in a forward direction, I turned around and headed back. About a mile from the finish, another runner in the Fleet Feet group came up and talked me through to the end.

One of the great things about running with a group is the shared experience and the motivation it gives you to stick to a workout regimen. And just when you think you can't run another step, there's someone to offer encouragement.

I was bummed though. I had run for an hour and 45 minutes and hadn't been able to cover nine miles. I'll blame the wind.

I needed further inspiration. I found it later that morning at church. Because we meet at 7 a.m. Sundays to run, there is plenty of time to make it to an 11 a.m. service. At Central United Methodist in Stockton, the sanctuary was a welcome relief from the storm outside. The ark-like architecture seemed appropriate as well. On this day, the Patrick Langham Jazz Quartet was part of the service, and its rendition of "Amazing Grace" was truly soul-lifting.

On Tuesday, I decided to take in a yoga class on my cross-training day. Yoga has many benefits for runners as it focuses on stretching, increasing flexibility and muscle toning.

But it offers much more than physical benefits.

The yoga session included meditation, and instructor Tammie Parrino left us with some words to ponder for the remainder of the week - words that I needed to hear:

"May I be filled with loving kindness. May I be well. May I be peaceful and at ease. May I be happy."

On Wednesday night, I met up with the Fleet Feet group for our speed work - resolved to try to run faster. No wind. No excuses.

I'd also received some inspiration from the Fleet Feet coaches in their weekly e-mail tips.

"We are at the halfway point and it may be getting a little harder to stay motivated to run or walk," wrote Karen Dial and Janet Diekmeyer, trying to keep us motivated ahead of the Shamrock'n Half Marathon - a 13.1 mile event I've signed up to run on March 15. "We want you to know YOU CAN DO IT! You are all on your way to making this part of your lifestyle, not just a temporary training program. Exercise must be something you do - like brushing your teeth. ... We are so proud of you for your commitment. Keep up the great work!"

I think about this while I'm running. And I pick up my speed, determined to try harder. By run's end, the foul mood that had hovered over my head the entire week like the dark storm clouds in the Stockton skies had lifted.

At home, my family was wary when I walked in the door. "Did you have a good run?" my eldest son asked.